The Call of Blood
by Sopheryl
Summary: Lichae Mahariel has protected Vigil's Keep, defeated the mother, and can finally get a chance to catch his breath...or can he? Troubles in the Dalish settlements above Ostagar draw him to his people again, and, possibly, into a trap...
1. Chapter 1

The Warden Commander Lichae Mahariel reported himself as being totally exhausted the moment that the Architect had vanished and The Mother was defeated. Even despite this, everyone knew that the very moment he'd arrived back in Vigil's Keep he'd done all he could do to help. There wasn't much, of course. He was a Dalish, not a Dwarven stonesmith, or a house builder, or 'much of anything' as he'd said, but he did his best with whatever task he could do, as he always did. Their Warden Commander spent the next few days tending to the wounded and imparting a helping pair of hands wherever he could, getting the barest few hours of sleep here and there until his Mabari, Meyeh, and companions somehow all decided, at the same time, that it was time for him to get a real rest, in a real bed.

That was how Lichae ended up herded into a bedroom, and with Meyeh laying in front of the door. Well, humans said to let sleeping dogs lie for a reason, and when Meyeh growled at him everytime the elf so much as glanced as the door Lichae eventually gave in and went to bed. He'd ended up sleeping over 12 hours, and only Oghren saying 'this happened after fighting the Archdemon, too' stopped Anders from going into the room to shake the Warden awake to make sure he was only sleeping and not dead.

A messenger found him early in the morning a week after the return to Vigil's Keep, halfway off his bed and still dressed. No one could say for sure what set Lichae (without seeing the letter), but he burst out of the room with the letter in his hands, ignoring called questions and heading out of the keep, out of the walls. It took both ice and roots from Anders and Velanna to stop him, and Oghren and Nathanial both had to take an arm in order to drag the Commander back to the keep.

They couldn't let their Warden run off to Denerim in what he was wearing, after all. It didn't matter that the letter clenched in his hand was so disturbing that he was prepared to walk to Denerim in bare feet and without a shirt.

Even if there were Templars taking the children of his people.

* * *

The messenger left days before Lichae, and yet the Dalish and his Mabari passed him on the road. Unlike the shemlens who stuck to the road, he was fearless and used to the woods. He needed no roads. Game trails across the countryside were his path, and his stamina could keep him running for long distances as long as he was mostly unburdened. It was something he'd always done, chasing after prey in a hunt, and while there was an urgency to chasing a deer, or a stag, or anythig else, this was a whole different urgency. This was about the fate of his people.

The letter had been from the Warden in the compound of Denerim, though the message had been from the Dalish settling around Ostagar. The chantry had moved into the nearest human settlement during the time the Dalish had settled, and with them came Templar. It wasn't hard to find out what Dalish children were magical when the gift showed. The keepers, after all, paid extra attention to the da'len who were blessed.

To Lichae, such children were doubly blessed. He had never had the gift, despite the fact that his father had been a Keeper in his time. Lichae could remember his clan half watching him, curiously, but the gift had never come. No, his skills had come in other areas, and they smiled and said that he'd taken after his mother. A fine hunter was what they'd hoped for, and he had not disappointed. No, he'd spent his life trying to become a person they could be proud of.

Lichae didn't even nod in greeting to the guards in Denerim as he marched through the streets. He was panting, yes, and tired, but he refused to rest. Not until he reached the bottom of this and there were no more Templars hunting his people. Side alleys and side streets made the trip to the castle short enough, though it had never seemed so long.

Well, the faster he got this over with, the faster he could rest.

The guards knew him by sight and he was let into the castle without any question. He made his way directly for Anora's quarters. Where else would she be?

"Is the lady in?" Lichae asked, putting on a pleasant smile for the guards.

"Well, yes-" one guard started, and that was all Lichae needed.

They couldn't stop him from going right in. He kicked the door open and Anora jumped at her desk. When one of the guards grabbed the elf's shoulder to stop him, Lichae grabbed his wrist. He twisted, and there was a large crack that left the guard holding his wrist. Zevran had taught him that handy trick.

"Stand down," Anora said, before the other guard could jump into action. "...Take him and take care of that wrist. I'm sure that our Warden Commander can protect me if the need arises."

Lichae crossed his arms as the guards left, closing the door behind them.

"Can I help you, Warden Commander?" Anora asked, raising an eyebrow. She clasped her hands together, resting them in her lap.

"Remove your Chantry's Templars from the Dalish settlement." Lichae kept his arms crossed. He was tired and felt like he could have fallen over at any moment, but he kept awake. This was Dalish pride he had, and if he didn't have that then what did he have? If he could not keep his people safe, than what good was he? The idea of being able to help his people was the only thing keeping him here, with the Wardens, instead of returning to the clans.

"The...Do you have any idea how dangerous that is? Apostates are dangerous enough as it is, and Dalish on top of that-"

"Remove them!" Lichae said, raising his voice. It was not something that happened often, and it was startling. "If you do not, then I will remove them myself. My people will not react well to their children being taken and turned into your circle pets!" He reached over his shoulder, to his quiver, and pulled out a single arrow. "I am an excellent marksman, Queen of Ferelden. I have held a bow since the moment I was strong enough to lift it. I assure you, I, and any Dalish hunter worth his vassalin, can fire an arrow and kill a templar without them even knowing they are being hunted. You'd be surprised how many gaps there are in armor, at how loud Templar are when they're hunting."

Anora's didn't bat an eyelash, though she did narrow her lips. "You are not helping your cause. Enough people see the Dalish as barbarians, and as your Queen I-"

"You are not my Queen, nor that of the Dalish! Firstly I am a Dalish, and I will watch out for my people. Then I am a Warden. That leaves you last on who I listen to." Lichae rested a hand on her desk, leaning against it, still holding his arrow in his other hand. "Andraste did not free our people from slavery so we could be controlled, over and over. We have offered homes to those in the Alienage who would leave, reduced your population there, and made it easier to handle. We have settled in the land that you gave us to do what we would with it. I have seen the Kocari Wilds, and you should be thanking us for accepting it so soon after a Blight, instead of harassing us and our people about our Keepers."

"If your people become abominations-"

"Then we will kill them ourselves, as we have been doing all this time! There is no reason for your Templar, or your Chantry, to interfere with us! Those who came from the city and wish to follow your Maker are welcome to go to the Chantry themselves, but that gives your people no right to kidnap our children!"

"Kidnap? The chantry is not kidnapping them, merely-"

"Taking the da'len from their families against their will." Lichae stood his ground. "If it were us, taking your magic-blessed children, you would be up in arms about us 'barbarians' kidnapping your children." He frowned. "Even if that would be a blessing on them. Our people live far better lives than yours in the Circle."

There was a silence as Queen and Warden stared each other down, and finally one gave in, though just barely, and just to keep the peace.

"I will...suggest that the Templars are beter used elsewhere," Anora said. "But they do not have to listen to me. The Chantry does not obey the crown, only the Maker."

"And the children?"

Anora thinned her lips a moment. "...I will request they be returned. To preserve your...culture. But again, they do not have to listen to me."

"Thank you." Lichae straighted, setting the arrow on her desk. "This will remind you...If they are not removed, I will remove them myself. Not as a Warden, but as a Dalish, and my people will do the same. You may add that to your suggestion."

That was how he left, turning on his heel and whistling for his Mabari as he passed the doorframe.

Anora waited until he was gone to write the letters. She had watched the elf kill her father, and had little doubt he would to the same to the Templars in the name of his people. The last thing Ferelden needed now was the death of a bunch of Templar at pagan elf hands.

* * *

Business kept Lichae in Denerim for several weeks before the news reached him that the Templar number around the Dalish settlements had been lessened greatly. The news was delivered by a Dalish runner riding, surprisingly, a Hallaa.

"Ghilan'nain be blessed," Lichae had said, as soon as he'd spotted the hallaa. "Aneth Ara, brother."

The Dalish nodded. "Ma Serannas Hahren."

"Hahren?" Lichae stared at the Dalish, seeming confused. "I am no elder, I have done nothing to deserve such respect."

"Abelas," the Dalish said. "But you are incorrect. You have done much for our people, and for the people of Ferelden. You are truly blessed by the gods, you deserve respect."

"..Still, Please, we are brothers face to face. How is the situation in the south?"

"As you wish." The Dalish bowed his head, respectfully. "The new home is peaceful, brother. The Elders sent me to thank you for your work. Our da'len were returned, no worse for the wear, though their clothing was strange and they were scared. Many celebrations were had."

"I am glad to hear it!" Lichae smiled as the Hallaa nuzzled his hand. "We are riding the Hallaa?"

"It was faster than walking, and since they are no longer needed to pull the aravels..." The Dalish shrugged. "A few that were heavy with calf have already dropped, and the babies are adjusting well. We have received lots of lands for them to graze, though I think some are restless." The Dalish smiled. "Perhaps they need the exercise."

"Then let us hope that riding them will help! It will be as the old days." The two Dalish laughed. "And the Keepers? How do they get along?"

"As well as you can expect."

"Trouble, then?"

"The clans keep to their own settlements, for the most part." The Dalish shrugged. "A few have banded together to form larger groups, but-"

"But the keepers still argue like da'len?" Lichae smiled, then ran a hand through his hair. "My clan, Sabrae, have they-"

"We have heard no word from them. They are beyond Ferelden. Though a few clans have kept to wandering, and they carry the news of a homeland for us. A few clans from beyond Ferelden have sent runners ahead, announcing their intention to settle." The Dalish looked nervous. "But, speaking of then clans...Will you be joining another clan? Your blood line, your father and mother both, is mighty. Any of the clans would be welcome to having you join them, and your mother's clan has asked about you. That started other clans claiming that they did not own you, and...several arguments."

Lichae stared at the other Dalish. "...I am just a hunter. I don't have the gift. I-"

"You are the hero of these humans," the Dalish said. "You word carries weight. And still, any children you have may have the gift. Any of the clans would embrace you as a brother with open arms."

"I...do not know. I'm not sure that's my place." Lichae looked down, then blinked as the Halaa nuzzled his cheek.

"The Halaa favor you," the Dalish said, quietly.

"As I have heard." Lichae smiled, despite himself, and stroked the soft nose of the deer. "And I am fond of them. Will you tell the clans I hope to visit soon? I have business here, unfortunately."

"I will tell them." The Dalish bowed, and Lichae bowed his head.

It was heart wrenching to watch the Dalish ride off on the Halaa. When he'd watched his people leave Denerim before, after the Archdemon had been defeated and Anora had given them lands as her first act as regent, it had hurt, but he'd had Zevran at least, and he was able to focus on helping to rebuild the city and the Warden order. This time it was far harder to keep his mind off his clans.

Still, he had no choice.


	2. Chapter 2

_A/N: Anora is characterized the way she is because...well...would you be polite to the person who killed your father right in front of your eyes? Just in case anyone was wondering. Anyway, she won't show up for awhile after this!_

* * *

Occasionally Lichae managed to get a little money. It was rarely much because, as he found, being a Warden wasn't exactly the calling to make one rich. He didn't mind, of course. It was the doing good that he enjoyed, and to be honest the idea of money had always seemed silly. Even now it seemed silly, and he found that it drove these people to extreme ends.

Well, the free clan system couldn't work in this large a place, he supposed.

So when Lichae ended up with a few coins to his name, he set a few aside for rainy days (and Antivan chocolate, as he'd found quite a like for it), and took the rest to the Chantry.

It wasn't that he went there often, but rather that he was well known. And even if he hadn't been known as the Hero of Ferelden, a name that made him wonder if he hadn't been better off running away from Ferelden right after the Archdemon's fall, the heavily tattooed style of the Dalish didn't go unnoticed in a Chantry, where everything was clean and pure and red and gold. And then there were his eyes which were unusual, to put it mildly.

"Ah, Ser Lichae!" A pretty ley sister said upon seeing him. "What brings you to the Chantry today?"

"A small offering." Lichae smiled.

"You are too kind." The ley sister smiled, walking up to him. She took the few coins he held out, cradling them in her hand. "You do not believe in the Maker, and yet you give."

"Belief should not stop me from helping. I know your Chantry has much to support, and much to do." Lichae nodded. "You help your poor, and I have seen your sisters and brothers in the Alienage. If I can help it any way, I am happy to do so. They may not be Dalish, but they are still my family, even if they do not embrace our ways. And besides, your Andraste helped my people. Why should I not help her's and her god's?"

"It comforts me to know our Hero is a good person, as well as a fierce warrior." She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, and her smile turned shy. A light blush crossed her cheeks. "I feel as if our home land is much well protected, with you here."

"I do my best." Lichae nodded, looking around the Chantry. It never ceased to amaze him what these people did. Their Maker was not his god, and the worship of the Maker compared to the Creators was so very different. He'd sat in the Chantries along the Blight, listening to the Chant. Leilana had told him of the wonders in the Maker's word. There was something to it, perhaps, and it was beautiful, but it was not something he could ever truly embrace.

He preferred the woods as his temple, praise in every tiny motion, be it thanking the gods for the sun's warmth, or for a good hunt, or for hearth and home. He did his best to honor his gods by being a good person, and found himself at a loss when these followers of the Chant acted against the very values written down and then asked for forgiveness.

Perhaps all these humans needed was to return to nature, at least for a few weeks, but they were so spoiled by the city, feet softened by stone and shoes and eyes too lazy to follow tracks that Lichae doubted it would ever be.

"Ser Warden," Anora called from up the aisle in the church, emerging from the Grand Cleric's office, and Lichae turned.

"Queen Anora," Lichae replied, nodding. The Ley sister bowed her head and hurried off when the Grand Cleric appeared next to Anora. "...Grand Cleric."

"A word if you'd be so kind." Anora raised an eyebrow. She looked at him as he walked up the aisle to them. "You were making a donation?"

"I was," Lichae said, simply, looking at her in the eye.

"As he does often," the Grand Cleric said, but Anora didn't comment further on it.

"There is a problem with your people, it seems. I was speaking with the Grand Cleric about it." Anora looked to the Grand Cleric, an elderly woman who still seemed to have some life left. There was a spark in the woman's eyes, and Lichae had thought more than once that, as far as humans went, the Grand Cleric was a very good person. After a few times of his donating to the Chantry, she'd met with him in person and spoken with him, perhaps curious as to why a Dalish elf would be donating. He'd found her pleasant to speak with, and since then they'd sat and spoken a few times. She was kind and agreeable, and when she gave him the Maker's blessing he'd responded with 'Mythal smile upon you', which she hadn't seemed to have minded. She reminded him a bit of Keeper Marethari, who he missed.

"A problem?" Lichae frowned. "What problem concerns the Chantry?"

"A Malificar has entered the area of Ostagar. We have returned our Templar there to hunt." The Grand Cleric nodded, then held up a hand before Lichae could speak. "At the request of Queen Anora, they will not remove your mage children, since you insist that the Dalish take care of their own...problems."

"But they will walk among your people," Anora said, as if daring him to pull out another arrow to leave her. "This is for safety."

"Safety!" Lichae frowned. "This is for your Chantry! We Dalish have survived since the fall of our homeland, and we are well prepared to hunt our own abominations should they emerge-"

"Peace, Warden," the Grand Cleric said, and Lichae found himself quieting if only out of respect.

"Abelas. Apologies." Lichae softened his voice. "I only wish for my people's freedom. Is that not why we were given land?" Lichae looked at Anora.

"Of course," Anora said, shaking her head. "As the Grand Cleric was saying, Warden, before you jumped to your own conclusions, they are only hunting down a Malificar. A dangerous one, at that. He may put my, and your, people in danger."

"What makes him so dangerous?" Lichae asked.

"He seems to enjoy teasing us, injuring but never killing the Templar he encounters," the Grand Cleric said. "And he has never been circle trained."

"We would prefer to avoid your people being enthralled by a blood mage. So you see Warden, we are trying to help." Anora straightened slightly, pulled her shoulders back, as if trying to be taller. "And yet, your people-"

"My people what?" Lichae's tone said what he wouldn't. Anora was on dangerous ground, if she was about to insult his people.

"Your people attack the surrounding villages," Anora said, seeming unaffected by his tone. "And there are people missing, as well as things. Do you wish to see the reports for yourself? I could show you them myself."

Lichae frowned. She knew he couldn't read well. He'd only started learning in Redcliffe, when he'd stood in the Chantry and picked up a book and Leilana had asked him what he thought of the story. He hadn't been able to answer, almost embarrassed that he couldn't do something so simple to these people as reading. Leilana had begun to teach him, well over a year ago, and then Zevran had helped in his own ways. While Lichae had come a far away, he still could not do much better than an child coming into his tenth year.

"Anora," the Grand Cleric said, "that is uncharitable." So she knew what Lichae was thinking, and more importantly she was in a position to state it.

"My apologies, Grand Cleric." Anora bowed her head.

"I should not be the one you are apologizing to."

Anora glanced at Lichae and, instead of apologizing, went on. "Furthermore, a few of the sisters and brothers and templars sent to that Chantry have reported usual activity from your people."

"Unusual. As if anything we do is usual to you." Lichae shook his head. "I would not compare our ways. They are different worlds-"

"And you understand them both." Anora looked off. "Which is why you will go to there, and investigate, if you'd be so kind. I'm sure with your unique insight you can get the truth to come to light, and settle the tensions."

Lichae blinked, then smiled. "I can agree to that. Very well. I will leave immediately." He bowed his head. "Queen. Grand Cleric."

"Maker's blessing upon you," the Grand Cleric said.

"And may Mythal smile upon you both."

Lichae had little to pack. He had a few pieces of clothing, and a few small carvings that he carried in place of a proper image of the Elder Gods, including one of Fen'Harel that was wrapped tightly in fabric and a few herbs meant to fend off bad fortune. He had his weapons, but those wouldn't be packed. Those he would carry. He wore his armor, leather and a bit of dragon scale, lightweight and functional. He wore his cloak as well. There was no telling how the weather would change on his trek down.

When he was packed he passed on the title of Warden Commander to a woman from Orlais that had come with the first group once the Blight had been over, and set on his trek with Meyeh as a Dalish first and Warden second. Before he left, a letter arrived from the Grand Cleric to give to the Chantry when he arrived, which he stashed away.

Luckily, a few families in the alienage had put together money enough to buy a small cart and ox, and he ended up traveling with them, offering his service to protect them along the way. They were more than pleased to have the Hero of Ferelden along with them, of course, even without the offer of a blade. Lichae spent the trip teaching them about the Dalish, things they hadn't known, and it made the trip seem shorter than it was. Meyeh, of course, spent the trip being fawned over by the children, and loved every minute of it. One of the older children showed an interest in the bow, and Lichae began to teach him the ways of the bow, going out one night to find a branch to make a training bow for him.

Of course a few bandits tried to take advantage of them, but Lichae and Meyeh managed to fend them off. Lichae hadn't faced an Archdemon and countless Darkspawn to be bettered by a few robbers, after all.

The season changed around them. While leaves had only been starting to turn when they'd left Denerim, by the time they got closer to the new Dalish settlements the trees were a mess of orange, red, and gold, and leaves fell rather regularly. It was still warm, but within a few weeks it would begin to get cold. Even that early the occasional chilly breeze passed by them.

A small human settlement had been built a short ways north of Ostagar, much south of where Lothering had been rebuilding, mostly there for the Chantry alone. It seemed like the humans were determined to convert the Dalish still, and it made Lichae frown to see it. Still, any Dalish in the town, and there were several, seemed to ignore it. It was a good thing.

Small groups of Dalish and formerly city elves were clustered here and there, speaking with humans. Lichae saw a few humans admiring Dalish craft, and he felt himself swell a bit with pride. Others were talking, or looking over human stands. It seemed like it would be easy enough to simply approach one and ask where the new arrivals went, when someone spotted the small cart and assumed the situation.

"Welcome!" The elf said, walking over, a lovely young woman with red hair pulled back into a pony tail. "You are to join the clans?"

"We are," one of the fathers said, smiling. "If they will have us."

"We accept all our city born brothers," she said, and Lichae couldn't shake the feeling that he'd seen her before. She wasn't from his born clan, but he knew he'd seen her. Perhaps at the last Gathering? No, no, it had been sooner than that. "All we ask is that you pull your weight, as is the Dalish way."

"Ah!" Lichae exclaimed, as it came to him. "Gheyna!" Of course! She'd been from the clan in the Brecillian forest, beset by werewolves. How could he have forgotten, especially after her problem with Cammen?

Gheyna stared at him. "Do I know you?" She asked. Lichae laughed and lowered his hood, and her expression changed to shock. "Mahariel!" Shock turned to a grin, happiness. "You have returned to the clans!"

"I was sent," Lichae said, smiling. "But I intended to come anyway. But that is business. Tell me good news of you and Cammen?"

Her face brightened. "Cammen has completed his hunt. He became a true adult not a full moon ago. We are due to marry within a few months. You must come!"

"I would not miss it." Lichae smiled. "These people have had a long journey. Can you see to them? I need to speak to the Chantry here."

"See if you can get them to leave us be," Gheyna said, shaking her head. "They wander our camps, looking for something that isn't there! We count our children three times an hour to make sure none have been spirited away!"

"Then I suppose my first business is seeing to that," Lichae said, frowning. "Gheyna, I will come sit with your clan later tonight. Please treat these elves as you would me."

"Of course! I will tell Lanaya." Gheyna grinned before turning her attention back to the new arrivals.

Lichae glanced at the other elves, some of who seemed to know who he was and were whispering excitedly or heading out of the town. Perhaps they were going to spread the word. Lichae sighed as he walked toward the Chantry.

This was going to be a long and messy trip.


End file.
